The World's Greatest Dad
by inreverie89
Summary: Teddy attempts to write about her father, Owen Hunt. In her eyes, he's the world's greatest dad. Rated M for a reason.


Name: Teddy Yang Hunt

Age: nine

Essay Rough Draft

o0o

Dad is the most generous man I've ever known.

My sister, Faith would agree with me on this while my twin brother would just purr his lips when this conversation is visited again by the three of us. Surely, I don't bother arguing this _fact_ with him because one time Dad scowled him terribly for breaking the microscope in the study room. Me, on the other hand, I still occasionally receive tight hugs from Dad when I bring him some fruit from the fridge as he is buried into piles of paperwork of his desk. Dad asks me about my grades, my fundraising events at school and last but not least, he asks me if I have enough money. I wouldn't lie to him, because Ma gives me more than enough, yet he always clutches in my hand a few bills from his pocket in exchange for a goodnight kiss.

Don't get me wrong, his love means the world to me, but the way he pretends to keep his bribery a secret to Faith and Theo makes me feel he's the coolest father on Earth.

As children of Dr. Cristina Yang and Dr. Owen Hunt, directors of two well-known Seattle hospitals, the three of us have a lot to live up to. Dad totally understands the pressure we put on ourselves so he always rewards us with exciting, adventurous trips to the Caribbean's, Disneyland and more during summers. And I say he's a generous father, for sometimes he even surprises us with rewards that we don't know why we deserve them. I remember one afternoon years ago, I was watching TV with Dad while Theo was playing with his toy cars. Ma absentmindedly skimmed through the Vogue magazine as she laid lazily on Dad's lap when Theo raised a question out of thin air.

"Ma, where were you coming last night?"

Ma sat up, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What are you talking about, honey?" She looked clearly confused by my brother's question.

"I woke up last night and got to the kitchen to drink some water and when I passed your bedroom I heard you screaming _I'm coming, Owen. I'm coming!_ Where were you coming to?"

I remember steering my eyes from the TV to look at Ma and Dad as she abruptly sat up from Dad's lap. They looked at each other with shock on their faces, and that puzzled me as hell. I wondered what was wrong in my brother's question that made my parents nervous.

"And Dad, you were shouting, too. You shouted _Come for me, honey. Come for me!_ Then you screamed Ma's name so loud I thought you were hurt or something. Were you alright?" I saw Ma stare at Theo, speechless while Dad gaped at him. My six year old self concerned about Dad's health so much that I rolled up his sleeve, starting to find the wounds on his arm. "Are you okay Dad? Did you get hurt?"

Dad turned to me, his face was with an obvious redness. He ruffled my hair and nodded with a smile to assure me he was okay then waved for Theo to come over the couch.

"Erhem. Theo. If you promise to not tell a living soul about what you heard last night, we will go to the mall now and buy the Lego set you love."

I was clearly confused. Dad didn't answer our questions like he usually did; moreover he gave Theo a Lego set out of thin air. But I couldn't feel upset for too long because Dad turned aside and looked at me with a huge grin. "Teddy, if you promise to forget what you heard from Theo and not tell a living soul about it, I can get you a Lego set, too!"

"I don't want a Lego set. I want a Barbie doll house." I was slightly offended that Dad forgot what I had been dreaming about for months. He ruffled my hair once more and nodded agreeably. "Of course, a dollhouse. Now get dressed, the both of you. And we will go to the mall!"

I remember singing a tune out loud as I raced to the stairs with Theo. My heart was too contented to hear my dear mother Cristina quietly scowlingDad. "Owen! You can't just give them everything they want…"

The last words I heard before I disappeared onto the steps were my Dad's mumbling. "Cristina, they're six. How are we supposed to tell them that…." And I couldn't care less about the rest of their conversation. I was busy putting on a dress; my mind was occupied with the picture of Jane coming over to play with me the next day, so I could brag about how my father, Dr. Hunt, is the most generous father on Earth.

o0o

 _Review, please. It makes my day._


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